"It was 1983 and he was an artist working and living amid the dreamscapes of New York City. But watching his friend Kenny, 27, waste away – he is one of those 39 million – moved him to act.
“They didn’t have a name for it – it was called gay cancer,” he tells me. “I went to visit Kenny and his food was piled outside his room. Nobody would go in the room. Nobody was taking care of him. The worst thing was that he could hear the orderlies outside his door taking bets on ‘how long the faggot in Room 12 was going to live.’ That really outraged me."
He could be anyone. But his name is Gregory Maskwa. The 61-year-old has lost countless friends and says dying from HIV-related illnesses during those nascent days was dreadful.”